The power of truth
by the-eternal-sapphire
Summary: Her whole life is a lie. The more of the truth she discovers, the more it destroys her.
1. Chapter 1

**New story time! I'm really sorry that i haven't uploaded anything for months, i started a new school and things are pretty crazy right now!**

**I got the inspiration for this in the night and just had to write it down to see what you all thought. Originally it wasn't meant to be a W.i.t.c.h. story but i made a few tweeks and here we have it! **

**I hope you enjoy this!  
**

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Lies never hurt anyone. The truth, that's what destroys us. It's funny how people will so easily believe a lie but find it almost impossible to accept the truth. How is that we can woefully underestimate the power of words to such an extent? They can break us down and build us up again, they hold an incredible force over us that for a sad amount of time we are not even aware of. It seems almost unimaginable that words hold the power to change something so drastically and even more unthinkable is how they have the ability to change history forever. All this in just one tiny sentence.

_We__'__ve found them for you, someone that will take you in. They__'__re going to look after you, is that clear? _

These were the words that altered my history forever. In some ways they marked the beginning of my freedom, and in others they marked my decent into the most hellish and brutal course of my life, but in all these years I have never really been able to distinguish between the two.

If you really want to know about my childhood there isn't very much to tell. From the age of 6 I lived at Hillgrave manor. What really bugs me is when people here the word "manor" they just absentmindedly assume I had an excellent upbringing with wealthy parents. I can just tell they're thinking I spent all of my days trotting around happily on one of the many ponies daddy bought for me. I hate how people just assume they know me, when really, they have no idea. People aren't't so cheerful when I tell them that Hillgrave manor is actually an orphanage. You can see their face just drops. Then they hit you with the whole sympathetic eyes thing, like they care about you or something, but that's not what they mean. What they mean is they pity you, and if there's one thing I can't stand in this world, it's pity. I hate it. From then on all anybody ever see's you as is the kid with no parents. The orphan. I hate that word _orphan. _That's what I'm labelled as, _an orphan._ I just hate it. Who needs _parents _anyway? I'd love to say I was like all the other kids, who's mothers died in child birth and their daddy was a hero who died fighting in the war. But nope, that's not me. I never knew my dad, he ran off the moment I was born. Don't even think about pitying me for that, I mean, you can't miss what you never had, right? And my mum? My memories of her all seem to have one thing in common. A bottle of vodka. That was her poison of choice every night. From then on the memories are a little blurred of her, perhaps I was too young to remember, or maybe I've just blocked them out now. Either way I don't wish to dwell on those thoughts, what good would that do?

I spent 11 years at Hillgrave, and like I said before there's not much to say about it. Hillgrave is basically in the middle of now where. Look out anyone of the many windows and all you will see is these dark green looking fields and millions and millions of trees, not exactly the best looking view in the world. Also most days of the year, we are under a near constant cover of clouds, it pretty much rains for most of the year. To see the sun at Hillgrave is a pretty rare sight, so you can imagine now pale all of the kids are there, having your skin neglected from the sun so much leaves you looking pasty and white as hell. It's not like we had many opportunities to go outside anyway, most days we would just sit in our rooms. In fact the only day we really did leave Hillgrave was on Sundays to walk to the nearest town, Merseyside, to go to church. That's another thing about Hillgrave, it's really religious. is the owner at Hillgrave, and she's meant to be like this perfect Christian or something. She would always be talking about how you need to be a good Christian and follow the word of God to get into heaven, and if you defied God you would be on the side of the devil and he would drag you to hell for an eternity. I never listened to this bull. Sure, all the little kids believed it, but I knew well enough she was only saying all that stuff so they would be scared into behaving well. I'm not religious at all. Anyway hell can't be so bad, I was in my own little hell anyway, so spending an eternity with the devil? How bad could that be? Every morning and evening we had to sit and prey in silence. We were told to ask God to forgive us. Forgive us for what exactly? If he really is real I should be the one forgiving him for bringing me into this sickening world. Anyway, like I said before Mrs. Rigg is the owner of Hillgrave. I suppose I would describe her as strict, she always wore this disgusting grey suit with a grey skirt and a cardigan on top. The cardigan kind of gave this illusion that she was some loving grandma who cared about all her little children. Don't let that fool you though, she wasn't to restrained when it came to giving you a smack round the face for something. In fact she'd pretty much hit you with whatever and whenever she wanted, I suppose she wanted to show us all who was in charge, and trust me, it worked. It was quite common to see a kid walk out her office covered in bruises or sometimes they would even be bleeding. It scared the daylights out of all the kids. Except me really. Having lived at Hillgrave for 11 years from the age of 6 to 17 I had been there longer than any other kid, and I'd seen it all. Nothing fazed me anymore. Oh, and then there was the food at Hillgrave. Well, what can I say? It kept us alive, but it didn't exactly make your taste buds dance. On Sundays we would have meat, although you could never quite tell what animal and which part of the animal it was from.

So there, now you know about my childhood. But what you'll really want to know about is when I got out of Hillgrave. It still surprises me when I think about it, and trust me most of it is pretty messed up. But that's just my life really, messed up. You see, the whole of my life had been a lie at Hillgrave, but that lie kept me safe. The truth however, the truth very nearly destroyed me. So I guess now that it's all over, I should tell you a bit about it.

_My name is Cornelia Hale and this is my story. _

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**I really hoped you all liked this! Any reviews will be appreciated, so any suggestions you have are very welcome!**_  
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**Also, since i stared my new school I've been studying A level English literature and language, so hopefully my writing will improve!  
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	2. Chapter 2

So, now you know the story of my lousy childhood, the next best thing to do would be to tell you about how I ended up in Hillgrave. From what little information I managed to extract from my mother, I gathered that my mother and father had been a happily married couple, that is until I came along. Like I told you already my dad ran off the day I was born and never looked back. I don't know what happened to him after, he never even contacted us, but to be quite honest I didn't care then and I certainly don't care now. He could be dead, and it wouldn't even bother me. From the beginning all I ever had was my mum. We lived in this tiny house which only had a kitchen and living room joined together, one bathroom and one bedroom. It was always dark and damp and cold there. Like most things we couldn't afford heating or electricity. My mum didn't have a job, the only time I remember seeing her get money was when she came out of the bedroom with a man. It was a different man each night. I slept on the sofa in our living room, most nights I could hear the noises coming from my mothers room, long drawn out moans, they chilled me to the bone, fortunately I didn't understand all that back then. All it was to us was another man, another meal. When I was about 5 I remember how the men kept coming each night, but the food in our cupboards was being replaced with bottles and bottles of a strange tasting drink my mum said was for grown ups only. That's when it all got really bad. I grew used to finding her face down in her own vomit, she'd always get up again no matter how long it took. It's funny how I was fine with all that, the drink and the strange men. I know that's what kept us going and kept us alive. The thing that really got to me was the endless screaming when she was drunk. She told me how I was a disgrace, how she wished she never had me, it was my fault my dad had left us, how everything was ok until I was born. You see the thing is, if someone tells you that kind of thing over and over and over again, you start to believe it, you really do. After a while I stopped crying when she screamed at me like that, she would only scream more if I did. Most times I could just make myself zone out from it all. Then one night it all changed. She drank faster than I had ever seen before, bottle after bottle was downed. Then like usual she fell down. I waited, and I waited some more. She didn't wake up. I knelt down beside her and put my hand to her face. Cold as ice.

_Mum, mum! Wake up mummy! Mum! It's breakfast time, you need some breakfast mum! Mummy, please wake up! Wake up! _

For a hours she lay still in that same position, I waited for her to wake up, but she never did. She just lay there, so peaceful like she was asleep. It was our landlord Mr. Fenway who found us. He came in calling for the overdue rent money. He called the police. They asked me a load of questions and within the hour the body of my mother was gone. They didn't even let me kiss her good bye. That was the first night I spent at Hillgrave. Old drove me their himself, dropped me at he door and drove away again. I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing. That's when I met for the first time too. She showed me to my room herself, the room I would spend the next 11 years of my life in.

For most of my time at Hillgrave I kept to myself, the other kids there knew not to even bother talking to me. Unlike me most kids didn't stay at Hillgrave for so long. Couples looking to adopt were always sticking their noses in, trying to find the cutest looking kid they could. I could see all these kids on their best behaviour trying desperately to be picked. It was pretty damn pathetic. The worst thing was these couples would stroll around like they were better than us, they didn't even realize the power they held, they power to give a child a life again, to give them a shot at making it in the world. I never bothered to try and get picked by them, they were all too snotty and up themselves for my liking, I knew my life was over before it even began anyway.

So like I said, I kept myself to myself until I was about 13, I had no friends at Hillgrave, which trust me, didn't bother me at all, but then Blaze came along. He was in the room next to mine. On the first night he was at Hillgrave I could hear this annoying clinking noise through the wall coming from his room.

_Clink. Clink. Clink… Clink. Clink _

I got right out of bed and stormed into his room.

"Hey, how about cutting out that clinking noise would ya? I'm try'na sleep!" I cried.

_Clink. Clink. Clink. _

He was messing around with this shiny lighter, flicking it on and off again over and over. He was sat on his window sill looking out the window. He was a skinny boy, tall for his age and had long floppy jet black hair that hid his eyes. He made this strange sniffing noise. Part of me thought that maybe he was crying. I don't know if he was or not.

"You gunna come over here and make me?" He said, nodding his head towards the empty space on the window sill next to him. God only knows why I chose to go and sit there, had it been any other kid I would have told them to shut it or there'd be trouble. But something about his vulnerability made me think that he needed someone that night, and to be quite honest, I think that night I needed someone too. Even if they were a complete stranger. So, I took my place next to him. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, placed one in his mouth and light it, and took a long breath in. Then he offered me one. I shrugged.

"Never smoked before." I admitted.

"I'll teach ya." He said taking another one out and lighting it too, he handed it to me.

"Just stick it in ya mouth and breath in, it'll relax you trust me." He said.

So I did, it was the strangest feeling really, the smoke pretty much overwhelmed me, and I ended up coughing my lungs up practically.

He just sat there and laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd seen in his God damn life.

"Ahahaha, so what should I call ya little lady?"

_Little lady? _Geez that bugged the hell outta me.

"Cornelia, and you?" I replied, too tired to think of a comeback.

"Blaze." He said

"Blaze? That can't be your real name." I replied

He turned away from me to look out the window again.

"My real name's Aidan, but call me Blaze, I don't see why it was my parents that got ta name me, it's my name so I should get to choose it." He explained staring out the window, taking long drags from his cigarette and flicking the lighter again so the flame danced. I nodded to him.

For a while we sat in silence in the dark, just looking out the window at the trees, breathing in the smoke. Over time, I was able to smoke just like Blaze could, and now I can't go a day without one, it just feels like my heads gunna explode.

After about an hour I felt myself dozing off. I slipped off the window sill.

"See ya around." I said

He turned to me and pulled a second lighter and packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Here, take these with you."

He chucked the items towards me. It was then that I noticed the scars covering his arms.

"Thanks." I said and slipped off to bed without another word.

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**Apologies for the lack of writing recently, I blame school for that!**

**Thanks to Saaraa for encouraging me to continue!  
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